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She drops her gaze to my semi-hard cock.
I reach for her hand and guide it to my dick, circling her fingers around it. I guide the pace of her strokes. “I promise we’ll do more incredible things.”
Her lips part as I harden even more under her touch. “I know we will.”
My eyes close as she ups the pace of her strokes. The pad of her thumb inches out to circle the head of my cock with each pass of her hand over it.
“Roman,” she says my name in barely more than a whisper. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
I open my eyes to the sight of her beautiful face mere inches from mine.
I drop a hand to her stomach to trail my fingers over the soft flesh until I part her folds. I glide my finger over her clit. “I like you.”
She circles her hips. “I thought that you might.”
I try to huff out a laugh, but a deep-seated groan falls from me when she squeezes my aching dick.
“You like me a lot,” she says.
I nod. “Guilty.”
Her lips find mine for a soft kiss. “Fuck me, again. I want to see your face when you fuck me.”
At this moment in time, I’d give her anything she asked of me.
After circling her clit again and then again with my fingertip, I break free to grab another condom package.
This time I want to stare into her eyes because fuck it, I’m falling hard.
There’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.
“Can I do it?” She taps my forearm. “Let me put it on you.”
I hand the package to her. Watching in rapt wonder, I roll onto my back so she can sheath me.
Her touch is gentle and careful. Her gaze darts from my cock to my face as she rolls the condom on me with a thoughtful touch.
Before I can flip us over, she’s on me.
I look away because this is more than I can bear. This much beauty and honesty are enough to shred me.
I bite back a groan when she guides me to her.
I stare at our bodies as she slides onto my cock, inch by inch.
Her back bows, her hands fall to my chest, and she rides me with wild abandon, using my body to give her all the pleasure she needs.
***
I tie the sash on Bianca’s dress into a tight bow. “You’re sure you need to leave?”
Her hands drop to cover mine. “I’m sure.”
I’m far from grateful that this night is coming to an end. I wanted more. I anticipated more, but she needs space, so I’m not going to get in the way of that.
“I need something from you before you go.”
Her head darts up. “I’m too sore for more.”
Leaning forward, I plant a kiss in the middle of her forehead. “I want your number, Bianca.”
She reaches to touch my chin. “Do you promise you won’t text me the stats of any players on the Mets roster?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I can’t promise that.”
The corners of her lips edge up to a grin. “No number then.”
I raise a hand as if I’m making a solemn vow. “I promise to keep the stats of the best players in the majors to a minimum.”
“I can live with that. Where’s your phone?”
I tug it out of the front pocket of my pants. Skimming my fingers over the screen, I pull up my contact list. “Fire away.”
She recites her number, watching as I key it into my phone next to her name.
“Send me a text.”
I glance up at her. “What?”
“Send me a text so I have your number too.”
The last time a woman demanded that from me, I could tell it was a test. She admitted as much when she accused me of keying her number into my phone wrong. I didn’t. I had every intention of calling her until that moment.
I thumb out a simple text to Bianca and press send.
Her gaze drops to the phone in her hand when it chimes. She lets out a light laugh before she reads my text aloud. “Kiss me, Bianca.”
“Now,” I say, stepping closer to her.
She does. She wraps a hand around my neck to tug me closer before she presses her sweet, full lips to mine.
Chapter 30
Bianca
“Why are you smiling like that?” My sister circles her finger in front of my face.
I shove another mouthful of pasta into my mouth. After I chew and swallow, I finally answer. “Eat your dinner, and you’ll know why.”
She points at her plate. “I’m almost done. I admit the food is great, but you’ve never been this happy because of ravioli before.”
Picking up the water glass in front of me, I take a small sip. “Work is going well.”
She eyes me skeptically. “Did you meet someone, Bianca?”
“Like who?”
Piercing a piece of ravioli with her fork, she drags it through the delicious tomato sauce. “A man.”
